


I Know I Could Have Loved You (But You Would Not Let Me)

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Series: Password Subject to Change [5]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, onesided taohun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 12:38:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10021136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: Sehun will never understand how Zitao feels.





	

**Author's Note:**

> taohun and sesoo both have an equal place in my heart :)

“Why are they like this?” Zitao whines as his head falls on Jongin’s shoulder. “Does Sehun not get my hints?”

“I think he is a bit dense, to be very honest,” Jongin says sagely as he rests his chin on top of Zitao’s head. “But I am a hundred per cent sure Soojung can tell.”

“Well,” Zitao snorts. “I must agree with you on this one. Soojung is smarter than Sehun.”

Jongin rubs his face and groans, “Why did we both fall for flighty wind spirits who never seem to understand our pain?”

“We are not smart people my friend.”

“True that.”

The two friends with strange powers are taking a break before the other slew of more stranger beings arrive here. Jongin didn’t have a very important class tomorrow, so, he had pitched in to help Minseok at the bar tonight. While Zitao’s shift starts in fifteen minutes and he had just seen Sehun looking like sin incarnate tonight again, so he needed Jongin—the only person with the knowledge of his hapless crush—and his shoulder to whine into.

Jongin heads behind the bar and starts cleaning glasses soon after. Zitao still has ten minutes or more to loiter around before his shift starts. So, he ambles over to where Sehun is, who fixes his bowtie. Zitao chuckles as he walks up to Sehun and bats his hands away. Zitao pats the two ends down and says, “How come, even after years of existing, you cannot tie a bow tie?”

Sehun scoffs as he runs his fingers through his silver-blond hair. “I am an expert procrastinator, that’s why.”

Zitao just shakes his head as he takes a moment to appreciate Sehun’s choice of clothing today. The dark purple pants made him look taller, his lithe limbs go on forever, and Zitao thanks the tailor who stitched the pants. Sehun looks too good, but then again, when does he not look good? Zitao had been taken aback when he first met him a little over thirty years ago, and he still is amazed by Sehun’s beauty.

Thirty-six years ago, Zitao ended up in front of this club, fresh out of Nether, a time paradox sending him haywire through the three worlds. It wasn’t fun, but he had to fix the error. He hadn’t wished to come here, but he did and Sehun found him by the dumpster, hysteric and burning up with fever. When Zitao saw him, he was convinced he had met a fallen angel, so bright and so beautiful, but it was only a wind sprite.

And even after so many years, Zitao cannot forget the way Sehun made his heart ache the first time. He is so afraid to step beyond the boundary of friendship, thus, for the last three decades he kept the secret of loving Sehun close to his heart (and told his agony to Jongin because they were kindred).

Sehun flicks Zitao on his forehead, which brings the timekeeper back to the present. He jumps and blinks in confusion at Sehun, who rolls his eyes and says, “Where are you now?”

Zitao sheepishly grins and shakes his head as his heart thuds. He wonders how Sehun cannot hear how loud his heart beats because he fears one day, his silly organ will reveal him and he would lose Sehun. Zitao checks his watch and says, “You go take your break. I will take over.”

Sehun frowns. He dusts some imaginary flint of the black lapel of Zitao’s jacket. “Whatever. See you later.”

Sehun leaves Zitao alone by the door and the latter sighs. It is such a burden to keep something like this to himself, especially when he wishes he could shout this out to everyone. But he is well aware of how Sehun feels about relationships and attachments.

Zitao stands guard as more creatures come and go. Late at night, Joohyun arrives as he chats with Jongin, who reports to him about the vampire and the wind sprite, both regulars and whose relationship status has been a subject of conjecture and curiosity for a long time. He talks to her and Jongin to distract himself. Soon, Joohyun leaves, and he smirks at Jongin, “She seems nice.”

Jongin narrows his eyes and hits Zitao on his arm and petulantly says, “She is, but she is also not my type.”

“Yeah, ancient and difficult wind spirits are your type,” Zitao scoffs.

Jongin smirks, “So is yours.”

Jongin makes his escape as Zitao scrambles in his head for a just reply. Zitao shakes his head, and then to his dismay, the source of all his anguish saunters up to him and says, “Being in the same space with Seungyoon and Sandara is an ordeal. There is so much sexual tension, it is actually suffocating.”

“Sehun,” Zitao rolls his eyes. “They like each other.”

“Yeah, sure. Sandara likes his blood and Seungyoon likes getting bitten. How is that equal to liking each other?”

Zitao simply blinks at Sehun as his heart races. When Sehun says such things, Zitao ends up questioning why he even liked him in the first place. He slowly says, “You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” Sehun loosens his bow tie and raises an eyebrow at his friend.

Zitao stares for a few seconds at the man who is the reason for so much of his heartbreak. His lips feel dry as something akin to despondency and unease grips him tight. He licks his lips and says, “Liking someone? Love.”

Sehun snorts. “Love? Pfft, I don’t have the patience for such silly, mortal things.”

Zitao scowls, “Silly, mortal things? Sprites fall in love as well you know.”

“Yeah, they might, but I am never going to do such silly things, so what’s the use in entertaining such stupid thoughts?” Sehun smirks and shrugs his shoulders as he puts his hands in his pockets.

Zitao feels his heart breaking all over again, but he says nothing. He looks away and swallows the knot of melancholy lodged in his throat. Sehun continues, “Anyway, love has never bought any good for the people I care about.”

Zitao whips his head around in surprise, and Sehun is staring over his shoulder to look at Junmyeon, who is talking to Jongdae, and he seems agitated and paler than usual. Zitao takes a closer look and asks, “What’s wrong with Junmyeon-hyung?”

“Love,” Sehun says in a low, tight voice.

Zitao cups Sehun’s shoulder. His heartbreak aside, he still cares for Sehun—he forever will—and asks, “What is it?”

Sehun whispers, “The shifters are back in town.”

Zitao frowns, “Shifters? You mean the wolves and the cats? Weren’t they banned from Seoul?”

Sehun looks at Zitao and realises the timekeeper knows very little about the reason why the shifters left the town a century ago. He fights with his conscience, wondering if telling Zitao the truth is wise. But if the shifters are in town, Zitao will learn sooner than later, and Sehun would like it if his friend knew it from him. So, he grabs Zitao’s elbow and drags him towards the terrace, and as Zitao protests about leaving his post, Sehun signals Baekhyun wiping the table at the front to take over for the time.

As Sehun pushes the doors to the terrace, Zitao asks, “What are you doing Sehun?”

Sehun leans against the railing as he gazes over nigh time Seoul vibrantly painted in neon and the sins of others. He says, “The shifters aren’t banned from Seoul Tao.”

Zitao frowns as he comes to stand beside Sehun. “What? I heard one of the patrons saying he misses his friend because she is a weretiger or something, and that she cannot enter the city because the shifters are banned from entering.”

Sehun sighs as he pulls out a pouch of hand-rolled cigarettes from the pockets of his vest. He lights one for himself, and another for Zitao, who takes it mutely, waiting for Sehun to speak. After taking a long drag and releasing the blueish white smoke into the stillness, he speaks, “A hundred years ago, the sprites, the angels and the shifters got into a nasty war, which the angels lost, but not without the shifters losing some things too.”

Zitao pulls in the heavy smoke of nicotine in his lungs and then he exhales through his nose, and watches the smoke curl out of his nose for a while as he processes the information. “Then, what does this have to do with us? And if the angels lost, how come Yixing and Taekwoon are dating?”

“They are why the shifters lost.” Sehun scowls, his face dark and filled with an ancient pain all of a sudden, “Taekwoon sacrificed his friendship to save Yixing, and Yixing sacrificed his wings to save Taekwoon. And amidst all this, Junmyeon lost the love of his life, and we lost our friend.”

Zitao smokes in silence for a while as he notes the dark, stormy expression on Sehun’s face. He doesn’t ask any more questions, and Sehun doesn’t talk as they finish their respective cigarettes.

 

Next morning, Zitao is cleaning the kitchen when he hears the back door opening and closing with a loud bang. He nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound, and then he hears someone falling to the floor and Kyungsoo cursing. He inches closer to the door to go check on Kyungsoo when he overhears a conversation between Kyungsoo and…Jongdae?

Zitao hears Kyungsoo hissing, “What the fuck Jongdae, do you have a train to catch?”

Jongdae says breathlessly, “I just met Taehyung outside.”

Kyungsoo gasps, “What?”

Then Zitao hears Jongdae whisper in a strained voice, “Kyungsoo, she is here as well.”

Zitao gets confused. Who is this woman that got Jongdae so bothered? Then, as if the universe heard him, he hears Sehun’s voice in the corridor, “She?” Zitao hears the rustle of fabric, so he assumes Sehun is helping either Jongdae or Kyungsoo to get to their feet. “Who are you talking about?”

“Seulgi,” Kyungsoo says. “He is talking about Seulgi obviously Sehun.”

Zitao hears Sehun gasping and hears Kyungsoo muttering some words of consolation or comfort—he isn’t sure—to Jongdae probably. Then Zitao hears the back-entrance door opening and closing again, and he knows Kyungsoo is the one who left because he hears Sehun asking Jongdae, “It has been a while since you saw her…what if she comes here?”

“Let her. I have nothing to do with her,” Jongdae replies, and Zitao scoffs under his breath. Jongdae is blatantly lying.

“Sure,” Sehun drawls, and Zitao imagines there is an eye roll in there as well. “I believe you…I know how much in love you two were. It was sickening. But are you okay?”

Jongdae grunts. “Like you care about my feelings. I remember you telling me you were incapable of love, or some bullshit like that.”

Zitao’s heart falls to his knees as he hears Sehun laughing, “Well, you know me, I am incapable of such fallible things. Love is not my thing, but just, be careful, okay? And we also need to make sure Junmyeon-hyung’s okay as well.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jongdae says.

Zitao walks back to his mop and he clutches the thing so hard in his hand, it nearly breaks. He hears Jongdae walking away, and he hears another set of footsteps entering the kitchen. He doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Sehun steps into the kitchen for a snack as he wonders what sort of fresh hell Seulgi’s appearance would usher in when he spots Zitao standing still in the kitchen, the mop in a death grip in his hands. He whistles, “Luhan-hyung making you do his dirty work Tao?”

Zitao releases his death grip, and the breath he had been holding. He says in a clipped tone, “No.”

Sehun picks up on Zitao’s strange tone right away. “Hey,” he comes closer to grab Zitao’s elbow. “You okay?”

Zitao turns around, and he tries to keep the heartbreak out of his voice when he says, “Are you really incapable of love Sehun?”

A wide grin splits Sehun’s face as he laughs. “What do you mean Tao?”

Zitao gulps, and drops the mop, which falls to the floor with a loud clatter. He says nothing as he marches out of the room. Sehun follows his stiff body and scowl out of the room. He scratches his neck and wonders what did he exactly say to offend Zitao so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from 'Silver Springs' by Fleetwood Mac


End file.
